Breaths of the soul
by Inkfire
Summary: A collection of drabbles about smells. So far ashes, rain, roses, fireplace, strawberry shortcake, lavender, baby scent, peppermint, chocolate, horses, coconut, lemon juice, pine and sea. Feel free to suggest.
1. Ashes

**This fic will deal with the concept of smells – yes, I do get inspired by the weirdest things. One chapter, one smell, one drabble, 100 words (I'll mention it if the word count changes).**

**It was originally meant as a prompt for a challenge on xoxLewrahxox's forum. However, after a discussion with our lovely admin about the billion ideas I had, it was decided that Smells wasn't the best one, especially since I entertained it more as a personal challenge, and we couldn't be sure it would inspire everyone – vague thing as it is. **

**So I'm keeping the idea for myself, like the selfish thing I am ^^**

**Feel free to suggest any smell you find could be inspiring (although I can't promise they'll all inspire _me_...). I'll probably write the Death Eaters for the most part, and especially Bellatrix, but I do have fleeting ideas that would include the Weasleys, Hermione or Luna...**

**Here is the first one: ashes. The character I thought of is Rodolphus Lestrange, but you are free to put it on any hopeless Death Eater (Draco or Lucius Malfoy for instance... -ponders- anyone in fact).**

**Last, but not least – I'd like to dedicate this to Xx starlight-moon xX. First, because my author note – the suggesting characters, the idea of a concept fic on the whole – made me think of her amazing Azkaban fic, Black Holes and Revelations (which I'd advise to everyone. Ahem. Along with all her stuff. She's sort of my goddess). Second, because she's the best and I just love her. Therefore, here you go! Dedicating! **

**Love to all! **

He walks amongst the burned houses, alone in a field of death-eaten nothingness.

The wind whips against his face. It brings the bitter, overwhelming scent of ashes; combusted flesh and burned wood, life robbed and raped until it came crashing down.

The scent fills his nostrils and the air he inhales feels lethal. He closes his eyes. The world has turned grey; his head, his chest are filled with the ashes of everything he believed in.

He keeps going, like one would keep breathing. What would you have him do?

Deep within, hope and faith have burned to a cinder.


	2. Rain

**Thanks to Elo, Marianne, Hanna and Sarah for their reviews. Love!**

**Sorry Sarah for forgetting you earlier. **

**(shakes head at my stupid, non-saving-files-before-posting attitude)**

**(decides the comp is to blame)**

**Sorry. Love you. Your review was delightful and I can't believe YOU of all people didn't get through the posting :( :( :( :( :(**

**That one is about Narcissa...**

A gust of fresh air whips her face.

It's raining, and the soft scent is filling her lungs with something cooler than oxygen, something that speaks of nature and quietness and peace. She inhales the heavenly fragrance that comes off the whole world, slowly. The world has turned grey, it lies silent and relaxed and offered, and she wishes she could lie there too and forget everything.

Sometimes she wishes for a soft death.

Her vision blurs with warmer drops.

But stronger things bind her to this earth than cool caressing drops and a sigh of despair.

She turns away.


	3. Roses

**Thanks to Elo, Marianne, Hanna and Erika for their reviews. Love you girls! **

**That one is about Bellatrix, as you all understood...**

The scent of roses, so potent, makes her dizzy.

Trust Narcissa to fill her room with flowers. Roses – Cissy always loved them. Universal, yet never common. Lady-like.

She used to love them too. Crimson roses – the delicious charm of décadence.

Petals the colour of dark wine under her trembling hand.

_Beauty. _

Petals fly under clammy fingers. Fallen from grace, torn and battered – beautiful.

Petals like blood at her feet.

The scent fills her head. Beauty here has a meaning.

_Love._

With an agonized shriek, she strikes blindly.

Sharp shards bite her fingers.

_Blood. _

Body and mind betraying her.

She falls.


	4. Fireplace

**Thanks to Elo, Marianne, Sarah and Erika for their reviews! (I always seem to get my reviews by groups of six persons...LOL)**

**That one features Bellatrix again, with Voldemort this time. **

The smell of the fireplace feels sensual to her.

She watches the tiny flames flicker and lick at the wood. Weak, yet so strangely persistant.

_Faithful._

He glides into the room, and she turns her head ever-so-slightly. Slowly, he approaches.

Crouched by her side, he observes her observing the flames, and he tries to place whatever caught his attention, pulled him closer.

Maybe her eyes, focused on something else for once.

Maybe her strange similarity with the tiny, passionate, ever-fighting flames.

Maybe that warm, sensuous scent of the fire, now impregnating her curls.

Maybe something beyond him.

He doesn't mind.


	5. Strawberry shortcake

**Thanks to Elo, Marianne, Hanna, Sarah, Erika and Lady Eleanor Boleyn for their reviews... (WOW! Lol)**

**That one is about the Weasleys, first "nice" character I write about here! Strawberry shortcake, as suggested by Lady Eleanor Boleyn... (I finally united that theme with my Weasley idea, previously labelled as "cooking") I hope that drabble does justice to your idea ;)**

The silence, so rare, felt almost holy to George and Percy Weasley, as they entered the Burrow. But from the kitchen, there were sounds to be heard. And that scent, that spoke of past, childhood, innocence. Carefree times.

Their mother reigned over her kitchen like the empress of a tiny, pitiful world. Silent, they watched as she moved about frantically. Filling the space. The emptiness.

Getting a grip again, to find a shattered world under her hands.

"Hello, dears!" she cried, "Look what I've done!"

Out of the oven, she pulled a strawberry shortcake.

Her boys smiled.

Do.

_Not. _

_Break._


	6. Lavender

**Thanks to Marianne, Elo, Sarah, Hanna and Lady Eleanor Boleyn for reviewing.**

**That one is Lavender, as requested by Lady Eleanor Boleyn (I hope you'll like my Andromeda ;))**

However dreadful it is, someone has to go through the deceased's things. Andromeda takes this responsability.

It is normal that she would discover things about her daughter, she reasons, picking a bottle labelled Lavender. Yet breathing its scent, she shudders.

_"Lavender is a lady-like perfume: a safe choice, very distinguished. Rose is more risqué, and to be chosen carefully: not too strong."_

She chose vanilla herself: soft, generous, inviting. It's everyone's right to choose their perfume. Nymphadora was nothing like Druella.

Andromeda Tonks always had a keen sense of duty. Throwing the bottle away, she gets back to her task.


	7. Baby scent

**Thanks to Elo, Marianne, Hanna and Lady Eleanor Boleyn for their reviews.**

**Baby scent, as requested by Hanna. It had to be Weasleys ;) I did think of Draco, but...nope. It WOULD be Ginny, hehe.**

The precious scent of a baby – so sweet, yet a bit acrid – is familiar to every Weasley, especially Molly.

But that one, she's quite special.

Molly's hands are surer than ever as she closes the diaper, and she doesn't have to duck like she did with her sons' courtesies. Instead, she picks the child up, crooning.

She's not just another baby, precious and sheltered at first, then left to wander around the house by itself. She could be – _she should be_ – the last one.

Precious, precious baby girl.

Her brothers pout, a bit jealous, yet swear to protect her forever.


	8. Peppermint

**Thanks to Erika, Hanna, Elo, April, Marianne and Lady Eleanor Boleyn for their reviews. I feel FAMOUS... Lol. **

**Dedicated to Hanna the birthday girl! And it happens to be...complete Bellamort throughout. Isn't that fitting? You know that I love you right?**

**Oh, and thanks people for pointing out to me that I left a word in French in the last chapter (is ironical). Elo: yay for fellow Frenchness, hmmmm? Let me know when I get absolutely DUMB, people, please. Love you! **

**Peppermint, like requested by Lady Eleanor Boleyn. I hope you like Bellamort, because my mind went STRAIGHT there when I read your suggestion! Btw, how would you girls imagine Voldemort's scent? Lol... Once you get out of the blood/death themes... C'mon, Bellamort fans! (cheers)**

**Okay, I'll stop rambling there... On with the show ;)**

Their moments together are few and precious; still sometimes, when his mood is exceptionnally good, he lets her sleep curled up against him. Burying her face into his neck, she breathes into him. It is like a bittersweet illusion.

She cannot place that scent of his, bittersweet like everything he touches, addictive, _deadly_; but when they make love – she thinks making love, she can't help it, fuck and shag couldn't reach that _intimacy – _she thinks of peppermint and lemon on an open wound. Peppermint – overwhelming coldness, so strong, yet so sweet. Peppermint that takes your breath away.

She relishes it.


	9. Chocolate

**Hey girlssssssssssssssssssssss! Sorry for the long long long delay – I had school and no inspiration! But I'm going to make amends, with this, and another one which should be up in the weekend as well :D**

**Thanks to Marianne, April, Nell, Hanna, Sarah, Elo, Erika, Maria (wow. The high of having friends) and NeverQuitDreaming for the lovely reviews. (squeezes all)**

**Chocolate, about Bellatrix. **

The scent permeates the air, heavy and rich, it fills her lungs and her breathing shortens.

Her lids flutter – the overwhelming sweetness washes over her, makes her dizzy. Part of her wants to give in, to drown into the sweetness, to close her eyes. She cannot remember when she last felt safe.

_Appeased._

Her heart is maddened, her body tenses, dry skin itching over her bones; but she knows that she'll run; she cannot stand the sweetness, it feels like a burn on her wrecked soul.

She can't imagine loving what she _has_. Being secure.

_Fulfilled. _

She prefers destroying herself.


	10. Horses

**Thanks to Hanna for the review. Hope you'll like that one! (fingers crossed)**

**Horses, as suggested by Nell. **

**A little explanation: the character is Luna, Anaximandra is her mother (I came up with the name – Anaximander was a Greek scientist and philosopher). **

As soon as she walks in, the strong smell and the warmth welcome her.

Her favourite friend neighs at the sight of her, and her dreamy smile breaks into a beam, a real, joyful grin.

Only this one can make her smile like this.

Long ago, she named her Anaximandra.

She walks among the horses, her eyes shining. She strokes the golden coat, and closes her eyes, breathing in.

Her mother taught her to ride horses.

Smoothly, she climbs on her friend's back. There, she feels complete.

Anaximandra never died. She will never leave her.

_Forever, close to my soul. _


	11. Coconut

**Thanks to Hanna, April, Erika, Marianne and Elo for their reviews! **

**I have two more drabbles written and on their way :D **

**Coconut, as suggested by Nell, and it is a Lucissa. Dedicated to Hanna, for this reason and because it was written during a Philosophy lesson. (the next two will probably be dedicated to you too, I'm on a roll and they're from a Philosophy exam – my very first – huge fun – and your Black Sisters Pine is coming up btw)**

The soap, the creams she uses on her glorious body leave her presence, subtle fragrance, on the sheets. Milky-white she lies, and he breathes her in, amazement and adoration filling his head along with her heavenly scent.

Rich, generous, fulfilling; its balance is faultless, and he studies it admiringly. Softness that calls to him. The subtility of the aroma, flawlessly lady-like. Exotism. Light, so light; almost imperceptible, yet irresistibly there, fuelling his craving.

_Arousing. _

She smells like coconut, golden peach bursting with light; she reminds him of the sun, soft rays caressing every inch of his skin, and he shudders.


	12. Lemon juice

**Thanks to Marianne, Nell and April for their reviews.**

**Lemon Juice as suggested by Nell, for Barty Crouch Junior.**

Sharp.

_Acidic. _

Sugary.

A slow smile spreads upon his features.

It is just a drink. Nothing more, nothing less. Pale golden in a large glass, like a tired sun; it is pale like his keen eyes, like the grin on his thin lips.

Its taste unforgettable.

He raises the glass. (_Coolness against his palm._) Closer and closer, till the smell washes over his head. (_His lungs filled with lemon._)

It burns against his throat, steals his breath. How he loves it.

Sweet, so sweet, yet _acidic_ – it's like a taste of himself.

_Insanity. _

He can't get enough of it.


	13. Pine

**Thanks to Marianne for her review. **

**Pine, as suggested by Hanna. **

**In case it isn't clear, the three POVs are Bella, Narcissa, Andromeda.**

The scent is so familiar – wide gardens of her childhood. But the memories have a devastating bitterness to them.

She remembers being pushed to the ground.

Falling, losing control – vertigo hitting her.

_Failure. _

* * *

The scent reminds her of races and distant laughter, a long broken harmony.

Shrill screams are still ringing in her ears – her hair feels dishevelled, pretty face ruined by streams of tears.

_Mess. _

* * *

The scent carries a taste of storm, and her smile falters. But regret was never too biting for her.

She remembers flying. Freedom smelt so much more addictive than old trees.

_Loss. _

She flew.


	14. Sea

**Sorry for the two months of waiting. I ran out of inspiration, lol. **

**Thanks should go for April, Hanna, Nell, Erika, Elodie and Marianne for the reviews I got ages ago. I hope I didn't forget anyone ^^ I love you girls **

**Sea, and Draco Malfoy. Hope you'll enjoy. **

The scent of salt, so rich, fills his head and overwhelms him. On his tongue, it tastes of crushing waves and immensity.

(_and he feels oh so little_)

The wind whips at his face. He can only see blue – so _wide_ – stretching in the distance till the end of the universe.

(_this incredible freedom feels like a slap in the face_)

(_it's dragging him under_)

(_it's shattering his inner walls_)

Draco breathes in and embraces the sea like he would a new life.

For time burned to ashes, for deeds that can't be mended and long lost innocence, he cries.


End file.
